Stephen's In A Volvo Ad...And It's Powerful

I heard about this project a year ago. The older man in the commercial is a friend I've known for several years. He's an actor who I've seen on stage many, many times. I've seen him be funny, serious, conniving, poignant, and downright terrifying.

In this ad, I saw a man reborn.

It's an advertisement for Volvo. It's ninety seconds long.

Stephen is the main actor--it's his story. He's reached a point in his life where he wonders what's next, and more importantly, what's his roll in whatever "what's next" is. I think we all reach points in our lives where we don't know what is around the corner. What are we to do, now?

It's amazing how much emotion can be packed into a minute and a half.

If you've got the time, and it's not a lot of time, click: HERE for the link. Watch the ad. It'll make you think or cry or smile...or all of the above. And then you--like me--will get to see another side of Stephen...

A man reborn.

The Hero's Journey...Like Breathing

I spotted this diagram the other day on Instagram. I snapped a screenshot so I could keep it handy and refer to it when needed. It was posted by a fellow writer. She used it to not only explain the Hero's Journey, but its history, and her thoughts on it, too. 

The reason I'm thinking about it now is for precisely the opposite reason I took the picture in the first place.

I haven't thought about it at all.

I've been involved in this writing game for almost a decade, and I've been attending writing conferences and symposiums for nearly as long. One thing writers like to do--and, anyone else, for that matter--is to offer advice. Sometimes it's good; sometimes it's crap. 

If you're a new writer just starting out, you need a plan. It can be a well-orchestrated and thought out plan, or it can be a general thought of where you'd like to end up. Like building a house, you've got to know about foundations if you want your structure to stand. As a writer, you've got to know about story structure if you want to see it succeed. I've attended, and been part of, so many classes, lectures, discussions on how to write a story--how to set it up--it becomes so natural...it's like breathing.

The same thing can be said about most movie storylines these days as well. In fact, the rules on screenwriting are even more ridged. Audiences expect a story structure they know, that they're familiar with, whether they even know it or not.

The Hero's Journey: we begin in the ordinary world, and venture into a different one. We eventually return to the ordinary, but the hero is anything but. He's changed, and we change with him. There have been entire libraries written on the subject, but the most interesting thing for me is, we know this journey. We see it, we read it, almost every day. And since it's such a successful journey, I don't see that changing any time soon.

Tonight's Western Sky...And What It Said To Me

I've lived on the same street for almost forty of my fifty-four years. I grew up on the mountain, constantly looking east at the familiar rock formations, the indents carved by water runoff, the patches of scrub oak trees, the open fields of grass, the entrance to Patsy's Mine, and to top it all, Flag Rock.

But, as magnificent as those views are, they many times pale to what I see looking west, especially after a storm and the air is clean and the visibility is unobstructed.

And at sunset.

Tonight was one of those almost perfect nights. I walked out on the back porch before the colors arrived, just to take in the view. Though we're not as high as some, our vantage point is just fine. I could see the entire valley, from the Oquirrhs to the southwest to Weber County to the northwest. And Antelope Island right in the middle. With a full sky of clouds, I thought the sunset would be beautiful.

And it was.

As far as color, there's been better, but the lack of color doesn't make tonight's show any less worthy. A thought came to me as I took it all in...We are constantly surrounded by overwhelming beauty. Do we block it out? Do we ignore it? Maybe we do, because to acknowledge all the amazing things in our world would cripple us almost to inactivity.

It's not a great thought, but as I looked west tonight, into the original fireworks, the stunning views reminded me again of what is there for us to see, if we only will.

Checking Out A New Podcast...The Reclaimers

When you involve yourself in creative endeavors, you end up meeting people and forming relationships with others who feel that need to create--it's in their D.N.A. I recently heard of a new podcast, created by some people I know and others I know of. It's call The Reclaimers.

I was instantly intrigued.

Today, I was able to download the three available Reclaimers podcasts on the app I use to listen to podcasts. And, to be honest, I wasn't sure exactly how I was supposed to feel after I was done.

Let me explain. First, the podcast is very well produced, well written and recorded. I dig the intro music and the voice actors are as good as any out there. Being a voice actor is a tough job--not everyone can do it. These actors definitely can.

Part of the reason I was a little confused is the set up...I think I was expecting something else. The podcast series tagline is: 

What if emotional abuse was a crime?

And what if survivors had the support of a team of caring empaths to help them heal?

From the podcast website, you can access by clicking: HERE, the following information is posted:

WHAT IS THE RECLAIMERS PODCAST ABOUT?

Set in the near future, where emotional abuse is appropriately deemed a crime, some humans have developed an empathy superpower, enabling them to provide support to survivors of such crimes. This story-based podcast was created to offer both validation and tools/methods for healing and breaking free.

So, I'm thinking dystopian, at the very least. I'm imaging people with superpowers working with victims of crimes. I'm also thinking this may be a little Minority Report-eske, especially if good intentions go wrong and innocent people are punished because of those intentions.

I need to say that I thought these things, partially from other future, alternative reality podcasts I've heard. The Reclaimers isn't this. I'm thinking those who wrote and performed these stories are thinking something like, "Wouldn't it be cool if we could present stories and instead of superheroes, we have people who want to fix problems with their hearts and minds, instead of their muscles and bravado." Because this is what The Reclaimers does. There's a safe place called Haven and people talk through their issues, hopefully coming to a better and healthier conclusion in the end.

I personally have not gone through counseling. This is not to brag or convey a deficiency--I only say this because if I had spent time in counseling or with a professional, I might have understood better what the creators of this podcast were doing when I began listening. Maybe not--just a thought I had.

I can definitely say, The Reclaimers is not your usual podcast. It's complex, imaginative, well-written, thought-provoking, and for me, a little confusing. Maybe that's exactly what it's supposed to be.

Our Lazarus Dog...At Least, For The Time Being

When you accept pets into your life, they come with a deal. You get all the love and joy they bring, but since there's opposition in all things, you also get the pain and helplessness of sometimes not being able to help them when they're sick, not being able to have them tell you how they feel.

But it's a deal we make every day.

And in our family, it's a deal we keep making, even after some of those pets have left us.

Years ago, we got a call from our neighbor friends. They said they had a Shih Tzu puppy at their house and wondered if we were interested in taking her home. I went and took a few of the kids with me to check things out.

I saw the puppy.

I called my wife.

"What do you think? my wife asked. "Should I come up and see her?"

I thought about it, then I responded. I said, "If you come up here and see this puppy, you'd better be prepared to take her home with you, because once you see this dog, you'll not be able to say no."

I was right. She came over. We brought the dog home with us.

That was almost fifteen years ago.

We named her Patch. She's seen many days. Lately, she sleeps a lot. She's blind, deaf, and we believe she's got dementia. There's been a few times when she seems like she's on her last legs. One of those times was this past weekend. She didn't get up. She didn't eat. She didn't sleep. It's happened before, but she'd never been that bad for that long.

Then, she got up and started eating and drinking, not a lot, but some.

Lazarus dog.

We're still pretty sure her days are few. She's not eating enough on a daily basis to keep up, and she's sleeping more than before. When she leaves us, we'll be sad--it's part of the deal we made when we decided to bring her home and make her part of the family. She just keeps tricking us as to when that time will be.

Just Wanted To Let You All Know...I'm Doing Okay

I thought the picture would be fun, a fun one to post on a day where I didn't do anything, didn't go out and about, and didn't have a chance to take something worthy of my Pic Of The Day.

I was not expecting the response I received. 

I'd like to say, first and foremost, I'm doing okay.

There were times, earlier in the week, when I wasn't.

I'd like to think of myself as pretty normal. I have normal feelings about others, religion, politics, sports teams. I've been fortunate enough to live in this amazing country. I've been married for twenty-seven years. I have four incredible kids. I like to think my childhood was pretty normal, too. 

But, in some ways, it wasn't.

I had special needs.

When I was born, I was allergic to so many things. My mom used to joke that whenever they drove to Idaho, the moment they drove across the Idaho State line, I would begin wheezing. My nose was almost completely blocked growing up. When I was sixteen, I had deviated septum surgery to fix it. It was fine for years, but the blockage grew back. When I speak, many times I sound like I've got a cold--nope, just a clogged nose. I've lived with not breathing out of my nose for over fifty years. So, when I get a cold and my nose is running and my eyes are almost sealed shut, it's not that big a deal for me. It's almost normal.

Since I didn't go anywhere yesterday, I had to post a picture. I thought it would be fun to take a picture of me with a tissue stuffed into my nostrils. I guess I didn't realize how miserable I looked in the picture before I posted it.

It's a day later--I'm doing much better. I expect to feel even better tomorrow. For all of those who wished me well, thank you. I know it helped. To those of you who thought I was doing really bad, it wasn't as bad as it looked. I just hope I don't look like that again, any time soon.

When A Picture Brings Back All The Memories...

I'm not the most active social networker, but I do post things every day. Sometimes, it's only two things--a Pic Of The Day, and a blog post--and that's usually it. But, when you've posted these things every day for almost a decade, you have a huge photo library saved on certain websites.

This morning, the above picture popped into my Facebook feed. 

And all the memories came rushing in.

I love this photo, mostly because it's a picture of my two youngest sons, sitting in the same chair, reading a book. Flash forward ten years from that day, my youngest is our only kid in school (other than college...), the older of the two is self-employed as a graphic artist. I don't know about the book or the chair, but I know the building where this picture was taken is long gone. There's a new library a few blocks over, but it's not the same library where I went and checked out books, where I went to make copies (basically, the only place in town to make copies...), where I went to study and to research and to find and read the Lord of the Rings and other amazing books.

We all know we can never go back. We can never return to the lives we knew, nor can we be the people we once were. There's wisdom in that, but the wisdom comes at a price. The price is memories.

Finding Joy In The Simple Things...Like Pausing The TV

The older I get, the more I feel like the people we used to make fun of--if outright, or in our minds--who would look on the younger generations and say things like, "Back in my day...," or "When I was a kid..." Because when I was a kid, the people who said things like this were born before the start of WWI, or were born in the nineteenth century. 

It's hard to imagine I knew people born during those times when we're living now in the twenty-first century.

What has this to do with the above picture? Well, I present this case. When I was a kid, there was no way to actually pause a program you were watching. If you were watching a program and you missed something, you missed it. There was no going back.

That's not exactly how we live our lives today. Today, I hardly watch anything when it's originally broadcast. Not sitcoms, not movies, even most sporting events I end up watching after the final score is posted in the record books.

So, while we watch things on delay, we end up pausing things. If you need to go get some food, use the bathroom, say the blessing on the food...you know, every day things. And when you pause programs, you get people frozen in time with some interesting facial expressions. 

The above picture I caught as I watched the broadcast of the University of Utah men's home basketball game against the Huskies of the University of Washington (sloppy, but good game...). In a way, it's unfair to post a picture like this. The people in front of the camera have no control over how they look 100% of the time, especially if they're animated, like Bill Walton is.

But, in our family, we've found many a frozen picture funny, even hilarious. And why not? It's fun--and free--entertainment.

If You're Looking For Something To Do Saturday...Marissa's Opening A Book Store

Last Saturday, I finished up an incredible experience at my alma mater. I helped perform six award-winning plays written by Utah high school students.

The event finished up at noon, and I thought, Perfect--I'm just in time for the grand opening!

I drove a few miles south, and a little west, and I pulled right in to the store parking lot. So cool! Someone (in this case, Marissa...) converted an old auto shop into a bookstore. I have no idea if the world needs more auto shops--it's highly likely it does. But I do know, our world could definitely use more bookstores.

I heard of the event on Facebook. Many of my author friends sent notices that they were attending and I was excited that I'd be in SLC right before the grand opening. There was only one problem...one small, little problem...

The opening was not for another week.

Of course, I didn't realize this as I parked my car (Donk...), got out and went inside. Once inside I realized my error. They were still setting up. But, from what I saw, it looks like it's going to be an awesome place to check out new, used, vintage, sci-fi, self-help, health, science, religion, and history books. You can check out their Facebook page by clicking: HERE. 

So, the place - 3302 South 900 East

Salt Lake City, Utah 84106

801-262-2873

The time - noon

1/25/20 (not 1/18/20...)

If you're in the area, please stop in.

Because if there's one thing I know, it's the world needs more bookstores.

Watching My Son...Watching Two Guys...Play Cuphead Video Game

I was sitting in the front room tonight after dinner, playing a little with the dog, relaxing, when I noticed something on the TV. It wasn't a movie, or a TV show, but a video game...

A crazy, whacked-out video game.

It's called Cuphead and it is bizarre.

It's supposed to look like some retro, early Disney-era short. It's part of the charm. And with literally millions of video games out there (if you count those you can get on your phone...), you have to have a niche. And Cuphead's niche is stunning.

After a while, I was sucked in. The games were on YouTube and the players were two YouTubers named PB & Jeff. I have no idea how famous they are, most likely very. My son and I watched as PB & Jeff tried unsuccessfully several times to pass the dreaded train challenge. They got so close, but couldn't quite get over the hump.

Eventually, after multiple attempts, they conquered the skeletons and demonic trains. Their reward? Moving on to the next insane challenge, of course.

Back in 2016 I blogged about how interesting it was to watch people play video games. The more I think about it, the more it's not so weird. We watch people play football, basketball, baseball, and every other sport known to mankind. We also watch cooking shows, talk shows, and the Batchelor (not me, but, you know...people).

We like to watch people do stuff. It's in our genes.

Even video games.

Even Cuphead.

I don't play a lot of video games, and I play no games on my computer or on a game system--not that I wouldn't want to--they're just expensive. I think, had I the means, Cuphead would be one I would try.

Risa Nyman's "Swallowed By A Secret" Is Available...From Immortal Works

January and Immortal Works publishers is a great combination. This month's new book is entitled, Swallowed by a Secret, by Risa Nyman. Again, since it's a brand new book, available today, I have not read this particular story. But, I have read many Immortal Works books and there's not one I haven't enjoyed.

What's Swallowed by a Secret about?

Here's the write-up from the Immortal Works website:

One dead father.

One lying mother.

After twelve-year-old Rocky overhears Mom admit her story about how his dad died is bogus, his trust in his one remaining parent unravels. The For-Sale sign appears on the front lawn right after the funeral, forcing Rocky to leave the house linked to so many memories of his dad.

Consumed by the secret and struggling to adjust to changing schools mid-year, Rocky is startled by a familiar voice. Dashing into a restroom stall to hide, the voice of his father tells him that the only way to learn the truth is to return to his old town.

Can you take advice from a dead person? 

Rocky finds a real partner in a new friend, Olive, who offers to be his assistant sleuth and help him crack the secret and get his life on track. The pair's schemes go bust, but they embolden Rocky to embark on a journey of risks, eavesdropping and snooping to discover the truth about the father he thought he knew.

I think we all experienced tough times growing up. Life, after all, ism't supposed to be necessarily easy. But, when we read about how others cope and what others go through, I think it bonds us to others, it also helps us deal with our own challenges.

If you think this something you'd like to read, you can check out the publisher's site for the book: HERE. You can also go to the Amazon site: HERE. Help support indie booksellers and book publishers. It's such a cool January thing to do.

About Risa Nyman

From her Amazon author page:

Born in Boston with the accent to prove it, Risa lived within ten miles of the city for decades until a recent move to the neighboring Ocean State.

For many years, Risa worked in a nonpartisan, not-for-profit organization dedicated to promoting active participation in our democracy, with a special focus on voting and elections.

Risa's deep dive into creative writing started with a strange event that involved finding three pennies in a neat stack in a completely empty apartment that belonged to her mother. It's a long story.

Writing is a priority and passion. At other times, Risa is reading, exercising or doing therapeutic ironing - unless the grandchildren are around.

I Finally Bought It...A License Plate Frame

I know I'm vain, hopefully, not in all things, but I know I'm vain in some. I think we're all that way, to a certain degree. If you're not at all vain, good for you. But, I am. I held off buying a license plate frame for the car I drove.

Until last week.

For almost a decade, our family had two cars, a Toyota Minivan, and a Pontiac Vibe. The Vibe was the second one we've owned. I got one after my mother passed away in 2007 and it was a great little car. After a few things happened, it became necessary to trade in our little Vibe, and so we did.

After some other things happened, I was in need of another car. I wanted a Vibe. I liked the look, I liked the gas mileage, and I loved the fact Toyota built it. I found one, a few years older and about 10k cheaper than the one I had earlier. I didn't mind the age, or the fact that the paint was peeling, or the fact that after I hit and killed a deer and we eventually had to put on a new driver's side door (that was not the same color...)--no, I didn't mind any of those things, because of one simple fact...

The car was paid for.

When you don't have money for a car loan, a paid-off car--as long as it runs well--is a thing of beauty.

But, whenever I saw a car drive by with a license plate frame from their alma mater, I kind of wished I could get one for the Vibe. Of course, I could have gone out and picked one up, but I didn't want to put a University of Utah frame on a car that I felt, didn't look good. I like the U of U. I like being an alumnus of the institution. I love the time I spent there, and I didn't want to put a U of U frame on my beat-up car.

I know...I'm vain.

Last month, we sold my Vibe to my daughter. I felt good about it--we know most of the car's history and it's been a fantastic, dependable car. I felt better about selling her my car than taking a chance/risk on getting a car from the public, or buying a car (which neither of us could afford...) at a dealer. This created a problem. I'd now be without a car. Last week we rectified that problem and I found a Subaru.

Introducing Donk.

He's a 2010. He's been very well maintained. He's the same color, all the way around. And, Donk is equipped with an anti-theft device--a manual transmission. We've only had Donk less than a week, but we love him already. Donk gave me a reason/excuse to get a new license plate frame.

And I did.

Two Photos...Eleven Years Apart

Years ago--eleven to be exact--my youngest used to love to climb up on our bed when I was working on my laptop. He loved it when I would open up the camera and take pictures of him and me just sitting there. He loved looking at the computer screen, watching himself as if in a mirror, but it wasn't a mirror. I took a lot of pictures of the both of us having fun in front of the laptop camera.

The first picture I ever posted to social media is one of my son and me.

Tonight, as we watched Shark Tank, I asked him if he wanted to take a picture. I showed him the one I posted on January 19th, 2009. He was four at the time.

"I will, if I don't have to hold my hand up to my head," he said.

"No, nothing like that. I just want to see how we look now."

I took the picture. Now, you get to see what eleven years (to the day...) looks like.

As it happens with many families, the youngest child gets the fewest pictures taken of them. It's sad, but true. And what's interesting, at least with our family, when our youngest was born, we used film for the pictures--no digital photography for us twenty-five years ago. Now, everything is digital. I can take a thousand pictures and they're basically free. I can't even imagine what it would cost to develop a thousand pictures back then.

So, instead of a "ten-year photo challenge," here's an eleven-year one. For me, it's just over a decade. For my son, it's a lifetime.

Hanging Out At The U...My Alma Mater

This morning I had the pleasure of participating in a high school script writing workshop at my alma mater, the University of Utah. 

Things have changed.

The interesting part was, the building in which we read the winning short scene scripts was held in a building where I actually took classes. I guess that's not that interesting, except there are buildings where I took classes that are no longer there, and there are so many buildings on campus that didn't exist in 1992.

I first drove to the Union Building--just getting there from the north side of the campus I saw just how much has changed. In the late 1980s there was an actual golf course (nine hole...) on campus, just east and north of the Union Building. It's hard to even imagine that because any place that once was golf course is now building or parking lot for said building.

I needed to drive over to the bookstore and the PAB (Performing Arts Building). No problem, I thought. I drive from the Union north, then turn east, the south, then west. That road will take me to the bookstore. Driving that road gave me a whole new set of never-before-seen-by-me things to see. There's a softball field and a running track that were not there before. They were so foreign, I couldn't remember what was there back in the day. Attending the school from 1987 to 1992, I got to know the campus pretty well. 

The new buildings/sports venues on both side of the street threw me off.

It's okay--I still know how to get to the bookstore. I've attended a U of U football game or two in the past decade so I knew some things had changed, but mostly they were the same. Still, I missed the road going west--I think the Trax light rail tracks confused me.

I eventually made it. The PAB looked the same in many ways, but there were changes in that, too. It's one of the older buildings on campus, not as old as those on President's Circle, but old. One day, I'm sure, they'll tear down the PAB. And when I return in another decade or two, when I look for the PAB, it'll be gone.

Times have...and will continue...to change.

Playing...With Poodles...In The Snow

The storm hit in the morning, but by the afternoon the sun came out and it was an absolutely beautiful day. In short, it was a perfect day to play in the snow with poodles. To be fair, we only had one poodle, but we did play and it was in the snow.

We didn't know anything about poodles when my son rescued his dog a year and a half ago. I could be wrong, but for some reason, I assumed poodles were water dogs, and they might be. We haven't taken the dog to a large body of water, but I don't think he'd jump right in if we did. Like I said, I could be wrong.

But snow is frozen water and I do know the dog loves playing in the snow. Once again, I utilized my favorite video altering function on my phone--slow motion--and had a blast videotaping his joy. I love watching the videos, seeing the dog bounce up and down, his big ears flopping and flapping as he runs. 

It would have been cool to video the dog actually catching the ball (spoiler, if you haven't watched the video...), but seeing him drop it is fun, too.

It's night. The poodle has crashed and he's sleeping off the fun binge he experienced earlier today. I supposed we'll all be a little bit more tired, too. It was worth it...definitely worth it.

Have You Received Your Guilt-O-Gram Yet...?

It arrived in the mail last week, not a bill from the power company, but something else. We've received them before so we knew exactly what it was. And, because I don't see our situation changing any time soon, I'm sure we'll get more of these in the mail in the future. 

What was it, the thing we received that wasn't a bill from the power company?

I call it a Guilt-O-Gram.

Or, Shame Mail.

Since everything is trackable these days, our local power concern monitors how much energy we use. And they're monitoring how much energy everyone else is using, too. The letter we received showed us how much energy we use, vs how much energy our neighbors are using. The point being, if you know how much energy you and others are using, you'll be shamed or guilted into changing your energy habits.

Except, it's not working on us.

There was a time when we had five people living in our house all day, all week, all month, all year. I telecommute so all the energy I would normally be using in a cubicle in a building somewhere, I'm using at home. We also homeschool so all the energy our kids would be using sitting at a desk at a school building (as well as the energy the teacher would be using...), we're using at home. My son works his own business at home, so instead of...well, you get the idea.

This information is not on the letter from the power company. I have no idea if they even know all these things about us (though, with the way personal information is thrown around nilly willy these days, they probably do...). So, their "look how big of energy pigs you are" letter won't really work on us. I do know that by not leaving the house, we don't run the car, thus adding to that problem.

No, we get the letters and just toss them. Maybe they work for some who are unaware of how much energy they're using. For us, we know. And we've known for years.

Frikadeller...The Danish Meatball

Last night my wife made a meal I used to eat several times a week while living in Denmark. Sure, it's been almost thirty-three years since I lived in Denmark, but some things never leave you.

The taste of Frikadeller, Danish meatballs, is one of those things.

I admit, the pictures I took of meatballs cooking in grease isn't the most appetizing photo I've ever taken, but the smells filling the house, the taste of international cuisine, it was worth it. After I posted the picture for yesterday's Pic Of The Day, a fellow American born in the wrong country kindly asked for the recipe.

So, Todd--here you go!

Several years ago our family visited Solvang, a town in the hills east of Santa Barbara, California. It's very Danish, and I love (almost...) all things Danish. We picked up the cookbook, mostly because when I lived in Denmark I didn't bring home any recipes of my own. It's a good cookbook, most likely put together by Solvang residents who were tired of Americans asking them all the time, "How do you make that" and "How do you get your pastry to taste so good?"

Side note--speaking of Danish pastry, I don't know how the do it, but it's very hard to find pastry over here that tastes as good as pastry made in Hans Christian Andersen's homeland.

So, if you're feeling adventurous and you'd like to make a meal more rare (as in scarce...) than Swedish meatballs (there are fewer Danes than Swedes...), whip up a batch of Frikadeller, and you'll also say, "Mmmmm! De er SÅ gode!"

Thank Goodness...For Warm Pants!

One of the presents I got for Christmas from my mother-in-law last year was a pair of bluejeans. These aren't just any pair of jeans...they're special.

In fact, they're winterized.

The pants have a felt lining, all the way down. Why would I need such a pair of enhanced pants? Because I work in an unheated basement, that's why.



Last year was my first year working in the basement. The way my desk was situated, well...it was cold down there. It was so cold at times, I had to wear a coat and fingerless gloves. I didn't complain--I did have a space heater and with all the layers, I was warm enough. Plus, I was working at home, so that was great.

In the summer, we went through and re-organized the basement, and by "re-organized," I mean, threw out a bunch of stuff. We tossed so much stuff that I was able to re-orient my desk against two walls. The reason we did this was more to take advantage of the space, but I found out this winter that because the desk is against the wall, the space heater I have warms up the area so much better. I'm sure engineers or people who know more about these things can explain why. All I know is, it's been a much warmer winter for me. The pants have definitely helped.



My mother-in-law worries about us, and she worries that I'm warm enough in the basement. She found these jeans and they've been so great for me this winter. I don't even think about being warm enough down there (and down there...). I didn't even know pants like this existed. I do now, and I'm glad for that knowledge.

I pretty much wear these everyday. We're in the coldest month of the year, so I won't be wearing them everyday in a few weeks, I'd imagine. And so, they'll go in the closet, and won't be touched again for several months. And when the temperatures drop and Ol' Man Winter comes a calling, I'll be ready. Thank goodness for warm pants!